Free Jasmine Plays Her Hand (Fantasy Guild No. 1) by Anwen Stiles

excited them,
but those books were nothing to this true story from someone they
personally knew. And the idea that they themselves could partake,
if they dared, in something similar, was enough to send them racing
home for some attention from their husbands, boyfriends or
vibrators, as the individual cases may have been.
    Jasmine was an excellent storyteller. She
described the men in great detail, what they looked like, how they
acted, how they were different and each one lovely and fuckable in
their own way. Some of the ladies lusted inside for the young pair,
Kyle and Sean, others for the commanding and dominant Sir, some for
the mysterious Michael. No one really considered Geoff.
    Geoff had gotten short-shrift in Jasmine’s
recount of her suitors. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the
role he played. No, in fact, he was her headliner. She simply
didn’t speak much of him, or describe him too fully, because she
didn’t want the other women becoming too interested in him.
    She glanced around the avid group of women,
continuing her sexy story. “Then I said, ‘Hold me, and don’t let me
go.’”
    Several women sighed.
    “Oh, and did they ... let go?” asked Cynthia,
her eyes sparkling.
    “They did not,” answered Jasmine. “I can’t
describe what it’s like to have two men hold you down while another
one fucks you and another one is touching you all over. It’s beyond
anything.”
    Ooh, was the response from more than one
woman.
    “And you weren’t scared?” asked young
Layla.
    “No,” said Jasmine. “Not once. Maybe I should
have been, but it just wasn’t frightening. They always made me feel
protected, even when they weren’t all that gentle.”
    “Just the right balance of rough and tender,”
said Cynthia, practically swooning.
    “Exactly,” said Jasmine.
    “What happened next?” asked Margie.
    “They fucked me.”
    “All of them? Again?”
    “No, all of them except Geoff and Sir.”
    “Good God!” said Margie. “Were you able to
walk afterward?”
    Jasmine laughed. “Yes, I was sore, still am
some, but I can walk fine.”
    The room fell quiet as the ladies recalled
everything Jasmine had recounted about her evening. Some imagined
they had the nerve to do what she had done, others simply imagined
they were her.
    As for Jasmine herself, she drifted off into
her own thoughts, her own memories of what happened after Michael,
Sean and Kyle finished fucking her that final time.
    She lay on the bed, sprawled in an utterly
unladylike heap of satisfied wantonness. After the men got dressed,
they said their goodbyes.
    They kissed her gently on the lips, one after
another, their hands straying over her well-handled breasts and
mound, her stomach and ass. They parted with reluctance, it seemed,
though a satiated reluctance.
    Sir was next-to-last to leave. He brushed her
hair from her forehead and smiled at her.
    “You know,” he said, “I’m available should
you decide you want to do this again.”
    “You’ll be the first one I call.”
    He glanced over at Geoff who sat leaning
against the headboard. “Most likely, you mean the second one you’ll
call.”
    She followed his gaze to the resting,
handsome man. “Yeah, you’re right. Second.”
    “I’ll take it.” Sir leaned down over her and
kissed her softly, sweetly. He touched her lower lip and lightly
pinched its plumpness between his thumb and forefinger. “Perhaps
next time I can acquaint you with some more new pleasures. For
instance, have you ever had a thorough spanking?”
    She shivered slightly and shook her head.
    “Then,” he said, “we should make that a
priority.”
    He kissed her once more, said his farewells
to her and to Geoff, and quietly left the room.
    She lay sprawled on the bed, and neither
Geoff nor she spoke until they heard the door of the suite close
behind Sir.
    “Come here,” Geoff said.
    She turned lazily toward him. “I don’t know
if I have the strength.”
    “Find it.”
    She smiled and did